Bridge
by Geniusgirl The Original
Summary: INDEFINITE HIATUS. At seventeen, Casey finally cracks. A month in Florida, a misplaced DVD demo and a straightshooting guidance counselor all help to push the McDonaldVenturis toward the inevitable. Dasey, because anything else insults my intelligence
1. The Divide

**Bridge**

**Chapter 1: The Divide**

_I wish you were a stranger I could disengage - Over My Head, The Fray_

"They always side with him! It's insane! _'What Derek wants, Derek gets'_," Casey mocked. Turning on her heel, she shook her head disbelievingly, "And you know what? It's _true_. He gets what he wants. I don't understand it,I can't live like this. Derek and I fight over the stupidest things - he _does_ the stupidest things actually. And I think we're driving our parents crazy. _He's_ driving _me_ crazy."

Casey stopped her pacing, breathing hard and glaring at the wall of her guidance counselor's office. Paul waited a few moments for her to cool. Of her own volition, she dropped defeated into the chair.

"I thought that after two years, we'd finally find some kind of compromise but _nothing's_ changed. _Nothing's _gotten any better. He still treats me like I'm a threat to his position in the family and, frankly, I'm sick of it," Casey lamented. "In fact, I think it's gotten worse."

"Casey, you still haven't told me what exactly Derek actually did this time. Maybe if-"

"That's the thing: I can't even remember what he did this morning. All I know is that it ticked me off. I'm tired of living my life on the defensive. It's self-destructive, you know."

"Actually, Casey, if you really think about it, from what you've told me, Derek's not always at fault. You must admit you kind of have a tendency to make things … well, about Derek. Sometimes, you're the one who pulls Derek into the picture," Paul said.

Casey's eyes flashed, "What?"

"What I mean," he said slowly, "is that there are times when _you_ are the aggressor. You remember that Feminist manifesto when you were fifteen? That's a perfect example. You _did_ invade Derek's space. You made him take down his posters and stop playing his favourite video game - which subsequently became your favorite game, I might add - in his own room. You've always told me that you consider your room your private sanctuary and that you want people to learn to respect that-"

"And Derek still hasn't,' Casey interjected.

Paul continued as though she hadn't spoken, "But have you extended the same courtesy?"

Casey looked nothing less than scandalized. "Of course I have! I've never-"

"If Derek insisted that you take down every poster of every boy you have in your room, would you?"

Paul smirked at the silence. In the two years he'd been dealing with Casey MacDonald, he'd managed to render her speechless only a handful of times.

"_If _he had a logical reason, I _might_ consider it," she answered. "But he most likely wouldn't and then it's _my _room. He doesn't have to come into it. Actually, that would make things a lot easier. But it's my space. He can't tell me what to do with it."

"Ah-ha. Do you hear yourself? You're being… to be frank, you're being rather hypocritical, Casey."

"_Derek's _the hypocrite," she countered automatically. "He's -" She stopped herself at the look on Paul's face.

"You see?"

"Oh my God, I _do _make everything about Derek. What is _wrong_ with me?"

"Nothing most girls don't experience at least twice in their adolescent lives. I've seen it hundreds of times."

"It being what?"

"A suppressed crush."

Casey shot out of the chair like she'd been bitten. "_What?"_

"It's true. Most teenagers who like someone they don't want to like usually antagonize the unwitting object of their affections in desperate attempts to make themselves see the worst in that person and thus break away from unwanted desires."

"_Paul! Do you remember who you're talking to? This is me! Casey!_" she practically shrieked. Taking a deep breath, she turned appalled eyes on him. "Derek is my _stepbrother_. I can't like my _stepbrother_. That's… that's _against the law_, isn't it? No. No, _no_, **_no_**. I _don't_ like Derek. I think I just have an overload of Derek in my system. Everywhere I go, Derek is there. I need to get away."

"I agree," Casey looked surprised. Paul hardly ever honestly agreed with her. "You need to distance yourself from the situation and look at it objectively. Summer vacation is coming up, right? Why don't you go somewhere? You must have relatives who aren't related to Derek too."

"I've only got my cousin Vicky and she… well, when I coordinated her mother's wedding, Derek did the wedding video _and_ Vicky."

Paul's eyebrows shot up. "He slept with your cousin?"

"No! They wound up making out. As usual."

"You don't have any other family? No grandparents or- ?"

"I could ask my Dad," she said quickly. Obviously uncomfortable, she clarified, "He lives in Florida. In the States. He's been asking Lizzie and me to visit him for the past year. Lizzie isn't too into it since she doesn't really remember him much but I've… I've kind of wanted to but I don't want to hurt Mom and George's feelings, you know? But if you're suggesting it…"

"Casey, I'm not telling you do anything that would ruin your family dynamic, I'm just saying you might need a break. To put things back into perspective."

"I know. I'll talk to Mom about it later. But I'm going to be late for my Media Studies class. I'll see you later, Paul."

"Have a nice weekend, Casey."

Today had been the first time Casey had ever mentioned her father. At seventeen, she seemed to have come to terms with whatever it was that broke her family apart. And it was obvious that she still cared for her biological father. Now all she had to come to terms with was her feelings for her stepbrother.

Paul shook his head, amazed that a girl with so much insight into the world around her had never noticed what was going on inside her own house. Paul had only met Derek earlier in the year (because Derek had chosen Paul's computer science class as an elective) and the boy was everything Casey had described. However, after talking to Derek for a while about his life in general (Paul found it surprisingly easy to get the boy to open up and attributed this to counselor-student confidentiality), things in the MacDonald-Venturi household became a lot easier to understand.

Paul just hoped this time apart helped to MacDonald-Venturis to understand those things themselves.

* * *

Dinner at the MacDonald-Venturi home was strange because Casey was really quiet for the majority of it. It wasn't until dessert and Derek's barb about her unfortunate archery experience in gym that she finally spoke. 

"So, Klutzilla, I heard you almost took out Coach's eye in gym class today," Derek said. "Physical injury to students too Little League for you now?"

Casey rolled her eyes at him and turned to her mother. She didn't really want to look at George while she said what she had to. She'd spent much of her afternoon pondering Paul's advice about getting away to clear her head and decided that he was probably right. She was too close to the situation at home to really understand the problem. Maybe if she got away, she could really get a handle on what it was between herself and her stepbrother that led to their explosive arguments. It couldn't _still_ be about dominance in the family. They'd been in the same house for two years and their parents had very clearly demonstrated that neither of them had the final say - no matter what either of them thought. So why couldn't they get along?

Casey wanted to get it out of the way _this_ summer. Next year was her final year of high school and she would be prepping to write her A-levels so she simply could not afford to spend most of her time in petty fights with Derek the Caveman. Besides, her dad was a psychologist. He'd probably be great help when it came to analyzing the situation. Better than Paul at least. A crush on Derek? _Yeah, right._

She took a deep breath (she'd been doing that a lot today, she noted) and began. "Mom, I want to visit Dad."

Sound at the table screeched to a halt. Nora swallowed a gulp of water, "I'm sorry, Casey, what did you say?"

"I _said _I want to visit Dad this summer. In Florida," Nora's expression altered and Casey knew what was coming. Before her mother could say anything, Casey plowed onward, her eyes fixed on her mother's wedding ring. "He's been asking Lizzie and me to visit him for months now. I talked to him online earlier today and he said it'd be ok. He's really excited about it. He said he'd pay the airfare and everything."

"Um… Casey, is there any particular reason why you have this sudden urge to visit your father?" Nora asked.

"Well, it's…" Casey looked at George who sat listening intently. She felt a pang of guilt and explained, "It's nothing to do with you or with you, George, you've been awesome. Or the kids. It's…"

She bit her lip. How could she explain this?

"Look, it's just me, ok? I need a break before exams. From everything." She took a bite of her salad and waited. Lizzie, Edwin and Marti went back to eating, seeing that there was nothing they could do or say about anything. Casey hadn't looked at Derek yet and didn't intend to.

A few tense moments later, in which Casey's eyes refused to stray from her plate, George spoke. "How long?"

Casey glanced up, "A month. The first of July to the first of August."

"And you're sure you want to do this, Casey? You haven't seen your father in over five years," Nora questioned.

"I'm sure, Mom."

Nora looked at George and sighed. "Then I guess that's that. I'll call Ben tomorrow."

Casey beamed at both adults. "Thank you so much!"

"Can I be excused?" Derek's voice was unexpectedly harsh. "I've got a date with Sandra. I don't want to be late."

George waved him away, "Go ahead. And be home by 11:30."

Derek nodded and rose from the table. As he picked up his plate, he looked directly at Casey. "Hope you have fun in the States, Case."

* * *

"Are you sure you have everything?" Nora asked for what Casey assumed to be the one hundredth time. "Passport?" Nod. "Ticket?" Nod. "Money?" Nod. "School play video?" N - uh, no. 

"Don't you think you should take it? It was your first big production. I think your father would like to see it," Nora said, picking up her purse.

"I'll be fine, Mom. Marti, can you bring me the video of last year's school play, please? The one in the yellow case marked 'Casey'." They watched Marti until she was out of sight then Nora turned back to Casey.

"Listen, Casey, if you want to come back before your ticket expires, just call me and we'll pay. Get in a taxi, get to the airport and you'll be on a plane, I promise. I want you to take care of yourself, ok? Your father can be a bit absent minded so if there's anything you don't like the feel of, you _tell_ him. He probably won't notice unless you say something. You know how guys are."

"I know, Mom. I live with three, remember?"

Nora smiled. "I'm sorry George and I can't take you to the airport. You said goodbye to him, right?"

Casey nodded. George had been really nice about everything, telling her to call home often and not worry her mother. She could sense that he would be worried too. Not to mention the fact that George had actually hugged her. "Yeah, I did."

"Good. Derek will drive you to the airport. He's promised to stay until you're done checking in. Don't fight with him. Please?"

"I won't."

Nora pulled Casey into a hug. "Take care, honey, I love you."

"I love you too, Mom."

"Did you mean this one, Casey?" Marti hollered down the stairs. At the top, she held a burnt DVD in her hand. Casey nodded, shutting the door. "Yep. Can you toss it in my handbag please? It's on my bed."

"Ok."

* * *

"Is this everything?" 

Casey spun on her heel and found herself almost nose to nose with her stepbrother. She blinked and took a step back, inexplicably breathless. "Yeah. I'm just gonna go get my purse."

Derek shrugged, picking up her single suitcase. She watched him walk out the door with his car keys jingling in his left hand and then turned and tripped on the stairs. Jeez, what was wrong with her? Seriously. She knew she was acting strangely. She'd been avoiding Derek like the plague from the evening she'd made her announcement. She had no explanation for it; she just didn't want to face him. Why she couldn't look at _him_ of all people was beyond her. It wasn't as though she felt she owed him - or anyone apart from her mother and George - an explanation for her actions. Lizzie hadn't questioned her. Edwin and Marti hadn't questioned her. What made her so afraid to look at Derek?

She sighed, closing her bedroom door. It was his apathy. Derek was everything _but_ apathetic when it came to her. Sympathetic and empathetic not included, he at least always had something to say. In truth, she could count on one hand the number of things he'd said to her since telling her to have fun in the States. She had no idea why it bothered her. She should have been happy for the peace and quiet. Shaking her head, she got into Derek's SUV, trying hard not to think of all the other girls who had probably done the same thing much more flirtatiously, and they began the long, silent drive to the airport.

It had to have been the longest half hour of her life. Derek had played some relentless German rock CD all the way. At one point, she found herself enjoying the music and had forced herself not to smile and to not notice the smirk on Derek's face as she fingered the case. Good music aside, however, Casey had never met a bigger pink elephant. It took everything out of her to breathe evenly. She practically leapt out of the vehicle once Derek put it in park.

Much to her surprise, Derek kept his word and didn't just drop her off at the gate. He was nice enough to haul her hefty suitcase to the check in counter for her. Then they heard it:

"…to Miami, Florida has been delayed. Passengers are requested to contact desk staff for further information."

Casey crossed her arms. "Great. Just freaking great."

She appalled herself at being nearly elated at it but, for the first time in weeks, she heard Derek laugh.

* * *

"Here." 

She accepted the cup with a mumbled thank you while keeping her eyes fixed on the display screen. The counter clerk told her it was a two hour delay; she'd been waiting for about hour and a half. She listened as Derek settled himself into a comfortable position on the rigid plastic chair, trying to think of a way to say something - anything - to him. The silence was killing her. They were never quiet around each other, they never shared comfortable silences and any awkward pauses in their conversations were brushed off with well-timed teasing. This hush was almost suffocating in its intensity. Really, why was it such a crime to visit her father? What did it matter to Derek anyway? Shouldn't he be jumping for joy at the thought of having the run of the house? Of having no one to battle him for dominance in the family for a whole month? Casey admitted readily that that was a large part of the appeal of the trip. She would have an entire month without battling for every bit of influence, every inch of say. It was almost a dream come true.

Yet, there was a part of her that already missed it. But she refused to think about that now. Not while she was still on Canadian soil. Not when she still so close to the situation and, most importantly, not while she was still so close to Derek. Close enough for the toes of their shoes to be touching under the table.

"So-"

"Than-"

She looked away and sipped at her tea. _Yuck, store tea._ "You go first."

Derek shifted slightly. "Ok. Why are you really leaving, Casey?"

She looked up at him. He wasn't looking at her. Possibly, he hadn't looked at her in nearly a month. In a way, it made it easier to answer the question. There was something about the way Derek looked at her when they spoke, when they fought, when he thought she wasn't looking, that made it harder to force words out of her throat. Again, she reasoned it away as being too close to the situation, too perpetually on the verge of tears.

"I need a break. To clear my head."

"Clear your head?" he asked, glancing at her only briefly. "I don't believe you. That's what you fed to our parents but I don't believe you at all."

"Oh, and you know me so well, you can make that deduction?" she countered, offended at basically being called a liar.

"I know when you're lying, Casey. You're way too obvious." _And you've probably gotten better at reading me, haven't you, Derek? _Something about that thought pissed her off to no end.

"I'll have you know, Derek Venturi, that I was _not_ lying," she retorted hotly, "I _do_ need a break. I need a break from _you_! I need to get away from you and your arrogance and conceit and self-centeredness. And from your obsessive need to always get what you want. You've finally won, Derek. You've run me out of the house."

"You finished?"

She exhaled sharply. "Yes."

"Good. Your flight is boarding." And, indeed, he was right. Feeling distinctly unsatisfied about the progression of their one-sided argument (Casey had the distinct impression she'd lost), she gathered her things and stood up.

What was she supposed to do? Hug him like she'd hugged everyone else? Everyone else weren't the reasons she was leaving. But, something said, it would be rude not to hug him since he'd seen her hug everyone else. But their relationship - or whatever it was - wasn't physical beyond irritating gestures and the odd wrestling match. She had no idea this much could pass through her mind in so little time. She bit her lip, fidgeting on the spot.

"So, I guess I'll-" Casey never finished her sentence. Derek placed his hands on her shoulders, leaned forward and kissed her cheek. It was the most _fraternal_ gesture he'd ever made toward her. She had no idea why it felt like it broke her heart.

"Have fun in the States, Case. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He smirked at her and she rolled her eyes. She couldn't help the slight smile that snuck onto her lips. She asked, "Don't you mean don't do anything you _would_ do?"

He thought for a minute then shrugged. "That too."

She shook her head, eyes on the ground. "Bye, Derek."

"See ya, Casey."

She turned once she was cleared and glanced back. She didn't expect to see anyone. Derek waiting with her for two hours was a miracle in itself. He wouldn't stay any longer than he absolutely needed to. But there he was, watching her, with his hands buried deep in his pockets and no expression on his face. When she looked at him, he waved slightly. She reciprocated out of sheer shock. But she smiled. After she turned away, so did he.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I realize that most people assume that Casey's father is dead. Assuming (because I haven't seen all the episodes) that there has been no canon mention of what actually happened to him, I've decided to ship him off to Florida for plot purposes. 

Thanks for reading!


	2. From Either Side

**Bridge**

**Chapter 2: From Either Side**

_Take our hands out of control - Gold Lion, Yeah Yeah Yeahs_

Miami International Airport was only slightly less than confusing. Casey had managed, merely through following the crowd, to navigate her way from the plane to baggage claims. Finally out, she scanned the crowd through the dividing glass (and tried desperately to not think about all the possible significances of _that_) until she saw her father. She recognized her father for himself rather than because of the sign he was holding. If she had been depending on the sign, she probably would have walked straight past him. It read in simple, bold print, "CASSANDRA McDONALD".

_Cassandra? _She hadn't answered to that name since… well, since her parents had gotten divorced, to tell the truth. Her father had always been the only one to call her that - for some reason, he liked it more than Casey, Case, Cass or Cassie. She knew that this wasn't due to him being snooty like Vicky/Victoria, because she had asked him a long time ago why he never called her 'Casey' like Nora did. He'd replied with, "I like 'Cassandra'. It gives you scope." Casey still hadn't figured out what he meant yet.

Casey stopped and stared at her father. Benjamin McDonald looked much like he had when his daughter had last seen him some five years earlier. He was tall and thin - perhaps even wiry by some standards, much like Derek (no way was she going _there_, either) - with intelligent features heightened by the glasses perched on his nose. His hair was brown and, without needing to look, Casey knew his gray eyes were kind. Steeling herself for the unknown, she walked forward.

"Dad?"

He turned slowly and looked at her, his gaze making her suddenly wonder if her shirt was too wrinkled from the flight, if her hair was neat, did she have dirt on her face? What would her father think of her? She hadn't even realized that she would need to make an impression. After all, she couldn't let him get away with the idea that he'd left and Nora had let her run wild, now could she? She shifted slightly until he smiled slowly.

"I've missed you, Cassandra."

Her father's voice. God, she'd had no idea how much she missed it. Tearing up already, she threw herself into his arms. "I've missed you too, Daddy. I've really missed you."

* * *

"Damn it!" 

This could _not _be happening. Where was it? Where was his goddamned DVD? For what felt like the four hundredth time, Derek went through every remotely disc-like item in his room. And, of course, it wasn't there.

"EDWIN!"

Maybe Edwin had been passing, but it was more probable that Edwin _flew_ in response to his brother's tone to be at the door in such a short time. Completely out of breath, the younger Venturi gasped, "You called?"

Derek was ferocious. "Tell me you moved my yellow DVD."

_What the-?_ Edwin frowned. Derek had really and truly finally lost it, hadn't he? _What yellow DVD?_ "Um… no. You had a yellow DVD?"

"Of course! It was in a yellow case and clearly marked 'Demo 12: Casey'. Did you move it?"

At that particular moment, it occurred to Edwin that Derek looked much like he had before blowing a fuse at Casey before Fiona's wedding reception: Very near a total breakdown.

"Oh, _that_ DVD." It was only instinctive self-preservation that stopped Edwin from smirking. The infamous Casey DVD. The one whose case Edwin wasn't even allowed to glance at. No wonder Derek was shedding. It allegedly contained a compilation of Casey's worst moments in the Venturi house but Edwin (and Lizzie) were quite aware that Derek would hardly be so guarded about it if it were in fact what he claimed it was. When accused of hiding something (again, this had been Lizzie because Edwin would simply have been pummeled to within an inch of his life), Derek had scoffed, saying he simply didn't want to share his vital blackmail material. _Yeah, right. _"Nope. Sorry, Derek, haven't touched it."

Derek collapsed backward onto his bed and Edwin winced. The hard edges of those videos had to hurt. Pulling his hand across his eyes, Derek ordered, "Get Lizzie and Marti."

Within minutes the girls were lined up beside the eldest Venturi's bed. Derek sat up and Lizzie glanced at Edwin candidly. Derek looked haggard and, above all, really worried. This was way more serious than either of them had anticipated.

"Ok girls, did either of you move a DVD in a yellow case from this room?" he asked in what they assumed was his calmest voice at that moment.

Lizzie quickly shook her head. She never entered Derek's room without his permission. Actually, the only time she ever considered it was when she wanted to _really_ talk to Derek. And that in itself was a rare occurrence. Marti, however, bit her lip. Everyone present noticed.

"Smarti," Derek began, "did you move my DVD?"

The little one nodded slowly, sensing that she'd done something wrong. It was too early for Derek to be relieved but it was obvious he relaxed at the prospect of locating the all-important yellow DVD.

"And where did you put it?" he asked.

Marti smiled; for once she remembered this clearly. "In Casey's handbag!"

Derek was on his feet, his eyes wild. "WHAT?"

Marti backed up. Then, remembering that this was _Smerek _she was dealing with and gaining confidence from that, she protested, "Casey asked me for it, though!"

His entire face seemed to pale. Edwin and Lizzie shared a glance. Was it healthy to turn that gray?

"Casey… asked you for it?" he croaked.

Marti nodded her little face defiant. "Mm-hmm. She wanted the DVD of her school play. She said it was in a yellow case and it had 'Casey' written on it. I couldn't find it in her room so I looked around. I found it in here."

Derek stood rigidly, eyes closed. Finally, he turned to face them. He pressed his lips together then herded them toward his door. "Thank you, children. You've done enough. Especially you, Smarti. You've done _more _than enough. Goodnight."

Without waiting for a reply, he closed the door in their faces. "Well, _shit_."

* * *

"Tell me about your new family." 

Casey looked up from her dinner, slightly startled by her father's abrupt speech. Apart from the pleasant din of the restaurant, the two hadn't really been speaking. The silence was comfortable and warm and it reminded Casey distinctly of life _before_ Derek. _Ah, Derek. You invade again._

"They're ok. George is nice if a little oblivious. He's a good dad, though. I don't know…" she sighed. Flustered by the awkwardness of having to describe her stepfather to her father (read: compare her stepfather to her father), she waved her fork around and proclaimed, "He's just George, you know?"

Ben chuckled lightly, sipping at his ginger ale. "Alright, we won't talk about George. What about your stepsiblings? I heard you have three."

Casey rolled her eyes. She wiped her mouth and sat back, done with her main course. This was what she came to Florida for. Might as well get it over with. With the image of Derek floating around her brain, she answered, "They're…different. They're not bad, actually. At least not Edwin and Marti. Edwin's just about a year older than Lizzie and a bit of a nerd. But he's a nice guy at heart. He can be a lot of fun when he's not with - … Anyway, Marti's adorable. She's her own person entirely though when I first met her I thought I was stuck in a family with a crackpot four-year-old. Now I _know_ I'm stuck in a family with a crackpot six-year-old. But they're great kids, both of them."

"I'm glad you're happy."

"We are." And suddenly Casey felt immensely guilty for saying so. She'd been in Florida for two days and what was most stark about her father's life was his lack of family. She was sure he had friends but, in Casey's mind, it didn't compare to what she had at home. Her father's life was jarringly lonely and she was probably just making it worse. She reached out with shaky fingers and brought her glass to her lips. She looked away - at anything other than her father. _Open mouth, insert foot indeed._

"Don't feel bad, Cassandra. I don't regret leaving your mother. You girls have a much better life than you would have had if we'd stayed together. For your sakes, I don't regret anything… much."

The sadness on his face was only barely perceptible but it was there. By the time he'd taken another drink, it was gone. He focused his eyes back on Casey and she felt nervous. Like that one time when she was younger and had been caught trying to bend the truth.

"So, would you like to tell me what you're not saying?"

She knew he meant Derek. She knew she'd been glaringly obvious about her avoidance. She supposed it wasn't that she didn't want to talk about Derek but, for some reason, she felt nervous bringing him up in her father's presence. It reminded her a little bit of when she'd had to tell Nora about Sam. Although she hadn't really had to say anything - Nora had just known. If she were honest with herself, she would have realized that she was feeling the way she'd always felt when telling her father (even via email) about a guy she liked. But Casey wasn't being honest with herself just yet.

"What I'm not saying?" she asked as flippantly as she could.

"What you're not talking about: Your third stepsibling, Cassandra." Casey had the distinct impression that she'd reverted to being eight, "Your mother warned me about this."

"Warned you about what?" Casey panicked, she had no idea why. What did her mother know? _Wait, what was there to know?_

"About your rivalry with him."

"Oh. That."

Ben's eyebrow rose. "Was there something else?"

* * *

George came home expecting to find the house loud and lively. What he actually found was a neat, clean and deserted place with only one troubled occupant. Derek sat at the kitchen counter brooding over a glass of milk. A _glass_ of milk. Something was definitely wrong. 

"Before I ask who died, please tell me Nora took the children out shopping."

Derek nodded, eyes never leaving the milk. "She said they'd probably be back around eight."

"Ah. You want to tell me what's wrong? Or are you going to sit there and stew in it all night long? Because Marti will start to worry if you look this serious for too long."

Derek groaned and dropped his face into the crook of his elbow. He muttered something unintelligible save for the words, "Casey", "idiot", "stupid", and what could possibly have been "DVD". George simply sat there. He had suspected from the moment he'd met Casey McDonald that he would face this problem once he married Nora. Apparently, the day of reckoning was upon them.

"Look, Derek, I want you to know that whatever it is, I won't judge you." That was about the extent to which George wanted to push. Because if he wasn't dealing with what he thought he was dealing with, he didn't intend to put ideas into anyone's head. "But I'm here if you need to talk."

With that, he sat and waited. Actually, he dug around in the fridge while Derek made up his mind about saying anything. Finally, when George sat down with a plate of goodness-knows-what in front of him, Derek spoke up.

"I did something stupid. It… It involves Casey."

George was inclined to ask what was new. He just kept chewing though, knowing that Derek telling him anything was rare enough. "Ok. So long as she isn't pregnant…"

_Shit, he should not have said that._

To George's thinly suppressed horror, Derek didn't even protest. He looked away, cheeks the subtlest shade of pink, and mumbled, "Not that kind of stupid."

George cringed, swearing he heard an unvoiced 'unfortunately'.

Ignoring his father's silence, Derek continued hesitantly. "See… you know those home movies I make?"

George nodded, his mind numb and screaming, _'SEX TAPE! SEX TAPE!'_

"Usually, I just record whatever's going on and then cut it on the computer. I've got DVDs full of footage of each member of the family. I've got one of you, one of Nora, two of Marti, one of Edwin and one of Lizzie and…"

"And…?" George prompted. None of Casey? He could see how that would be a problem if Casey ever found out. She'd be hurt and probably rather offended. George noticed that when it came to Derek, Casey was vain like that. Admittedly, however, if that were the problem, George would be able to sleep much more peacefully tonight.

Derek looked like he wanted to kick himself. "…And six of Casey."

George choked. So much for a good night's sleep. "_Six_?"

Wincing, Derek nodded and there was silence. Not the easy, can-be-borne silence of earlier but the say-something-now-or-explode sort. Eventually George stopped wiping his chin. "Six DVDs of Casey. Well son, that's… a lot."

Derek chuckled mirthlessly, "It's called _stalking_, Dad."

George blanched. He thought for a while then asked, "Derek, what does this mean?"

The Venturi patriarch watched his son think and come up with the scariest answer George had ever heard. "I don't know, Dad. I don't even know how it happened. One day I had a couple shots of Casey being her regular, clumsy Casey-self and the next… I've got six tapes of Casey studying, eating, sleeping, listening to music. And I don't even want to start to think about what it means."

Sighing, George stood and placed his plate in the sink. He kept his back turned, because he really couldn't find the strength to say this to his son's face just yet. "Nora and I have suspected for a while now… that you'd start to feel differently about Casey. We just didn't realize it had already happened."

"That's the thing, Dad. I haven't… I don't know how I feel about Casey."

George turned around. He looked at his son, really looked at him, and realized that he was dealing with a young man now, not a boy. But a young man who still needed his help.

"Well then," he said, "you've got one month to figure it out, Derek. If you need me, I'll be right here to talk."

Derek downed the rest of his milk in one gulp. He handed his father the glass across the counter and got up to leave. He stopped at the door to the dining room and looked over his shoulder. "Thanks, Dad. For listening." _And understanding._

Derek took one more step and stopped. Without turning even slightly, he sighed and confessed, "She's just beautiful, you know?"

And then he was gone. George nodded to the space where Derek had been. He knew. He had always known. He had always known that Derek thought so, even before Derek knew it himself.

* * *

**Author's Note: **First of all, I like the name Casey, I just think that it's a bit more of a nickname than a real name. Since, again, there's been no canon mention of whether or not 'Casey' is her full name, I've taken the liberty of expanding it. And yes, it is possible to go through life using a name not actaully on your birth certificate. Secondly, I've always thought Derek would be quicker on the uptake than Casey. AndI don't think George and Nora are completely oblivious - just really complacent. I hope you enjoyed it. In the next chapter: Casey and her shrink Dad ! 

Thanks for reading and for the awesome, encouraging reviews.

**DISCLAIMER: **_Life With Derek _and all related materials belong to Disney and Shaftesbury Kids. No infringment is intended.


	3. An Excavation

**Bridge **

**Chapter 3: An Excavation **

_How many days disappear as you look in the mirror, so how do you choose? - Absolutely (Story of a Girl), Nine Days_

"Dad?"

"Yes?" Ben looked up at the tentative face of his daughter. She shifted in the doorway, toeing the edge of the carpet and obviously awaiting a signal to enter his study. He took off his glasses and set aside the case file he'd been working on. Facing her completely, he said, "Come in, Cassandra. What can I do for you?"

She took two steps into the room and stopped. "Are you busy?"

He shook his head.

"I - I was hoping we could talk. About my stepbrother. Last week when you asked me I said that I didn't want to talk about it but… I was doing some… thinking… and I _do_ want to talk about it. But you have to promise me something."

"Anything."

Casey met her father's eyes squarely. "Don't be biased toward me. Tell me what you really think. Don't try to rationalize things in my favor. I need to know if _I'm_ the one at fault."

Ben sat back, surprised by her request. Most of his clients were really looking for validation rather than actual evaluation. But then again, Casey wasn't one of his clients. She was his daughter, his Cassandra. He smiled proudly. "Ok. Would you care to explain why?"

Casey finally sat down. "My guidance counselor, Paul, had this ridiculous idea about me and Derek and I want to know if that's how it really looks to an outsider. Because it can't. It just _can't_."

"Would you like to start then?" Ben asked. Casey wanted impartiality and that was what she was going to get. It was one of the perks of being family.

"Yeah," Casey replied, "My problem is called Derek Venturi and I've had it up to here with him!"

* * *

"So…" 

Derek rolled his eyes, knowing that Edwin usually wanted something (and had the means to get it) when he used that tone. Leaning his head backward, he groaned, "What?"

Edwin leaned against the doorframe, still aware that to enter the room was to enter the beast's lair and that was a sort of suicide the younger Venturi brother wasn't prepared to partake of quite yet. But he was at the door and he was feeling daring. "So, did you realize that it's Friday night?"

Derek stared at him. This was what he came here to say? That it was Friday? _What the hell was this kid on?_ "Yes, I know that, Edwin. Do you have a point?"

Edwin stared right back, his gaze blank. Then, just as abruptly as he'd arrived, he straightened and said, "Nope. Not really. See ya," and was gone. Derek frowned at his doorway for a moment then shook his head, hooked his earphones back in place, and continued what he'd been doing.

* * *

Ben blinked, honestly amazed by the amount of pent up hostility his daughter had for this 'Derek Venturi'. Could the boy actually be that bad? Well, to tell the truth, so far he hadn't gotten a single bit of information on Derek. Only on what he'd made Casey do. The greater part of Casey's initial rant had mostly sounded like, "And then there was that time he - ugh! So, of course, _I _etc, etc, etc." 

It pained Ben to think it but, being impartial, he realized that his little Cassandra had become ridiculously self-absorbed. So he stopped her halfway and told her it was time for lunch. That was how he found himself sitting in Ruby Tuesday under a faux Tiffany lamp in the middle of the day, asking his daughter to start at the beginning.

"What do you mean, 'start at the beginning'?" she asked.

"What was your first impression of Derek? How did you two meet? What did he say? What did you think of him?" Ben clarified. "What did meeting him make you feel? Tell me how it happened."

"The truth?"

"In it's entirety. Leave nothing out."

Casey bit her lip. She remembered exactly what her first impression of Derek had been and, honestly, she wasn't keen on telling her father _that_. Maybe she could just skim over that part? Apparently not, because her father was already telling her that she had nothing to be worried about. Say anything. She sighed.

"Derek and I first met at the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding. We ran across each other before we were officially introduced. I had no idea who he was at the time and he didn't have a clue who I was," she began. "I was in the lobby of the hotel waiting on Mom and Lizzie - they were in the bathroom. The next thing I knew, there was this guy standing right beside me and when I looked up I thought… well, I thought he was the hottest guy I'd ever seen. We talked for a while and he did the strangest thing: he asked me about art."

Ben's eyebrow rose. Judging by Casey's penchant for using the word 'caveman' to describe Derek, it was indeed rather odd to hear of him discussing art. Intrigued, he gestured for her to continue.

"Well, now that I think about it, it isn't really that _strange_. I mean, when we first moved in, they had this painting of a landscape hanging above the fireplace. Mom and I eventually got rid of it; it was…dreary. But when we first took it down, Derek was screaming about where had we put his art? It never really registered to me before." She paused, frowning at her oversight, "Anyways, before we finally got it banished to… you know, I have no idea where it went. Anyhow, I _Googled _it and it turned out it was a replica of some sort of masterpiece."

She took a bite, thinking for a minute. "As I was saying though, I was looking at this Picasso print they had hanging in the lobby: _Woman Ironing _to be exact, and he just… _materialized_ next to me and asked, 'You like?' so I looked at it then at him and then told him Picasso wasn't my style."

And there was something in the way that she said it, even there at their table, that told Ben exactly what she'd meant. It was hardly any father's dream to realize that his little girl was capable of being in any way suggestive toward the opposite sex yet Ben, who already understood that he didn't have much control over his daughters' life, was quite glad to see that his Cassandra hadn't thrown herself at Derek, no matter how "hot" she'd thought he was.

"Then he told me that I didn't look like a Picasso girl (which came back to bite him in the butt, he found out that I actually _am _an abstract art girl; I just prefer more modern abstract art). So I asked him if he liked the picture and then he said - and this is what really confuses me because he was just way too… real when he answered me - he said, and I quote, 'Nah. Vermeer and Van Gough are more my style.' I was thinking, _Guys like this exist? For real?_ Then he told me I looked like a Kinkade girl. Who the hell is Kinkade anyway?"

Ben was amused. "He's right. You probably are a Kinkade girl. I've never thought of it before. That was quite insightful of him for a first meeting."

Casey scoffed. "The way he was checking me out I'm not surprised he-"

She stopped abruptly, blushing. She decided she had better stop where she was before she said anything else along that line. Derek hadn't made a secret of looking her up and down in those first moments of their acquaintance. He'd looked at her the same way she's seen him look at all the prettiest girls in their school. And while in some smothered part of her heart she was smiling at the epiphany, the thought of nearly having been one of Derek's many conquests made her unimaginable angry.

"So we flirted." Casey's lips twisted in a way Ben had never seen before. It was an odd mixture of fond reminiscence and self-loathing. "_A lot._"

She paused and stared out the window. Suddenly, she shook her head and, still not looking at her father, she continued in a much harsher tone, "He was too smooth. And genuine but I've seen him work girls before; he must've been really bored to go all out like he did that night. Anyway, I _almost_ gave him my phone number."

"What happened?" Ben asked, intrigued by the way his daughter's social life worked. Casey hardly talked about boys. Occasionally, as an aside, she would mention whoever she was dating at the time when she sent him her monthly emails but otherwise Ben had no idea what kind of people - especially of the male persuasion - his daughter preferred. Whether she knew it or not (and whether he wanted to admit it or not) it appeared very obvious to Ben that Cassandra had a 'thing' for this boy. Whatever that 'thing' might be.

"Mom and George found us and were so glad we'd met. That was when I realized I'd been flirting with my stepbrother. I spent the rest of the night avoiding him."

"Did you?"

"Well, I tried. We were all sitting at the same table so it was kind of hard. But in a way that was a good thing because suddenly it was like everything that was wrong with him was highlighted in icky florescent green. You'd be amazed how much you can find out is wrong with a person in three hours," she stated.

Ben nodded pensively. They sat for a while listening to the customer around them, not saying anything, each lost in their own thoughts. Then Ben spoke up: "Correct me if I'm wrong, Cassandra, but based on what you just told me, wouldn't you agree that your initial feelings toward Derek were those of attraction and potential romantic interest?"

Casey choked on her salad.

* * *

Lizzie sat up when Edwin walked into the room. She saved her game and turned to face him. "So what's the verdict?" 

"Well," he replied, plopping down on the foot of her bed, "it's Friday night and Derek is sitting in front of his computer _after _I reminded him that it is, as I said before, Friday night."

"During summer vacation," Lizzie added after a moment's thought.

"During summer vacation," Edwin agreed. Scratching the back of his head, he said, "I don't get it. First Casey decides she's had enough and takes off to the States and now Derek is a homebody? Why didn't anyone tell me that the world shifted off it's axis? Nothing in this house makes sense anymore."

Lizzie sighed and sat beside him. "When has anything in this house ever made sense, Edwin?"

"True, true. But this is off the scale, Liz. What do you think happened?" he asked.

Lizzie shrugged, at a loss for an answer. "I don't know. Maybe they finally figured it out?"

"I think Derek's worried about that DVD," Edwin offered, "Did you ever find out what was on it?"

He groaned as Lizzie shook her head. "So what you're telling me is that we - _we_ - have no idea what's going on?"

"Basically."

"Well that's just great. Any suggestions on how to find out?"

Lizzie smirked. "Of course."

* * *

Casey paced back and forth in front of the bathroom mirror, stopping every once in a while to stare at her reflection, shake her head and repeat the process. She'd been doing this for nearly twenty minutes. The one good thing about being at her father's place was that she had a bathroom all to herself. It was a luxury she'd never experienced before. Even prior to the merger with the Venturi household she'd always had to share a bathroom with Lizzie. She had never had one completely to herself and she liked it. 

In fact, she liked a lot of things about life with her father. There was no one to fight with for the best seat at the dinner table, no one to fight with over the last clean glass/plate/cup left in the cupboard, no one to fight with for the fluffiest towel, no one to fight with for space in the bathroom (again, another perk of having a bathroom all to oneself), and no one to fight with for legroom on the couch. Heck, there wasn't even a fight over the remote because her father hardly watched TV during the day and he had a TV in his bedroom for after he went to bed. It was heaven. But, if she were truly honest with herself, Casey would realize that she _missed_ the fighting. It was part of what made her life as vibrant as it was. And, for once, Casey was being honest with herself.

Since her father had basically accused her of the same thing Paul had earlier in the year, she'd been thinking,_ really thinking_, about her life with Derek. Could it be that she really was attracted to the caveman? When she looked at it in retrospect, it was all very plausible:

She hadn't wanted to go to the stupid rehearsal dinner and had wanted less to meet her new stepsiblings. When Nora had told her that one of the boys was her age and that she would like him, Casey had expected a nerdy, bookish, socially inept geek who had read as many books as she had. At least she would have conversation, she had thought. Then Derek waltzed in oozing confidence and charm and he was so different from anything Casey had come to anticipate that she hadn't even considered the possibility that he might be one of her stepsiblings. Not to mention, he didn't look that much like George. That night Derek had worn his black pants, a black blazer and a green formal shirt and he had looked… well, Casey supposed there was no other word for it, gorgeous.

_There, that wasn't so hard._

Actually, what scared Casey most was how easy it had been to admit that Derek had been (and still was) extremely good-looking. The more she thought about it, the more discovered she had never not given Derek credit for his looks. _He_ was the one always ragging on _her_ about her clothes.

"_'You know it's not Halloween, right?'_" she mimicked. _His favourite barb._ Sighing, she asked the walls, "Why does he have to be such a jerk?"

Leaning her weight on the counter, she looked her reflection in the eye. "Why do you care?"

* * *

Bored feet drifted past Casey's unoccupied bedroom and onward down the hall. Marti stopped halfway past Derek's room having noticed that his door was ajar and there was sound, however distorted, pouring faintly through the gap. Curious, she tiptoed over to it and peered inside. Derek was there staring intently at the computer screen. 

"What are you doing, Smerek?"

He jumped visibly, swiftly clicking at something. When he realized it was Marti, he smiled and breathed again. He allowed her to clamber up onto his lap before hitting the play button once more. Marti settled into a more comfortable position, accustomed to this sort of thing. She often sat with Derek when he was editing (mainly because she found it fun to watch the family and because it was one way for Derek to avoid playing dress-up). She'd seen this footage before, she realized. In fact, she'd seen it quite a number of times.

Studying her brother's face, she couldn't help but notice how hard he was concentrating. After all, he hadn't even said anything to her. He kept his eyes fixed on the screen. He wasn't stopping and replaying anything either. He was just…looking. Which was odd, because Derek didn't waste time like this with his movies. But as Marti continued to watch, even in her six-year-old world, understood that there was one common element in everything she was watching. And that was probably why Derek wasn't actually doing any editing.

"You really miss Casey, don't you, Derek?"

His face snapped toward her and he stared at her for a moment before sitting back and nodding. Smiling oddly - Marti didn't know quite how to describe it - he replied, "Yeah, I guess I do. Do you?"

Marti nodded vigorously. "I don't have anyone to dance with in the kitchen anymore. And everything is so quiet. You guys fight really loud, you know."

Derek chuckled. "I know we do."

Marti frowned, pondering an inconsistency in her reality. Confused, she asked, "Derek, do you like Casey?"

Derek's eye went wide. "What do you mean?"

"You guys were always fighting before she went away so I guessed you didn't like each other then. Do you like her now?"

"Hmm," Derek sighed, obviously thinking of a way to answer her without being too confusing or complex. Then he looked at her with his 'serious face'. "If I tell you something, Marti, do promise to keep it secret? Totally, _totally_ secret?"

Marti nodded eagerly. No one else in the house really told her their secrets. Derek was the only one who really trusted her enough. Casey had told a few but those hadn't stayed secret for very long anyway so Marti supposed they didn't really count. "I promise, Smerek."

"Ok. The truth is: I've always liked Casey. From the first day we met her. You remember that?"

"Mm-hmm. You saw her first. You guys spent a _long_ time talking by that picture."

He smiled. "Yes, we did. And I thought she was very nice then."

"And very pretty too!" she exclaimed, remembering Derek's initial comment on seeing their stepsister. "You said she was…_gorgus_."

"_Gorgeous_," he corrected.

She cocked her head to the side and questioned, "So why do you two fight so much?"

"Because… that's how we talk to each other. Sometimes I want to tell her something, but I can't put her on my lap and tell her like this, so we try to talk and then we start arguing."

Marti looked at him suspiciously, unable to comprehend this twisted teenager logic. "Is this like the time you told me cows quack, Smerek?"

Laughing, Derek answered, "No, it isn't. Things between me and Casey are a little more complicated than quacking cows. Honestly, Smarti, I don't know how I feel about Casey anymore. Since she left it's been really weird because I'm glad that I don't have to fight with her anymore but at the same time…" His arms tightened around Marti's torso, pulling her in for a closer hug, "I miss her so much it hurts, Marti."

Marti's eyes were the size of saucers as she struggled to turn in his grasp and face him. She was far too young to understand what Derek was going through. Far too young to even imagine it. But Derek was her favourite brother and he was, apparently, in pain. "It hurts? Where?"

"Here," her said. He took her small hand and placed it over his heart. "It hurts my heart."

* * *

"Derek!" Nora called rushing up the stairs. "Derek, where are you?" 

She got to his door and threw it open, not particularly concerned about his privacy at that point. She hurried over to his desk and stared at him appraisingly.

"Are you ok?" she asked, concern saturating her breathless voice, "Marti told me your chest is hurting you. Is it hurting you now? Are you dizzy? Can you breath properly? Why didn't you call one of us?"

Derek blinked, amazed by how quickly Nora could speak and caught completely off-guard by her questions.

"I'm sorry, Nora, what are you talking about?"

She looked at him incredulously. "Your heart! I walked through the door and Marti tells me you've got chest pains. Are you ok? Do you want to go to the hospital? Did you get hit at hockey practice or did this just start by itself?"

It took a moment for Derek to remember when he'd told Marti he had chest pains. And then it hit him. All he wanted to do was go through the floor. He was torn between utter humiliation and anger at Marti for not keeping his secret. She'd never failed him before.

From behind Nora, her guilty little head peaked out. He lunged. "Smarti! I thought I told you to keep that secret!"

Refusing to back down, she shouted back, "Dad told me not to keep those kinds of secrets! You're sick!"

"I'm not sick, Smarti. I didn't mean it like _that_!"

It never registered that he was, in fact, quarreling with a six-year-old. It also did not occur to him at that point that she had probably thought he was in danger. He hadn't qualified his aching heart statement and he should have noticed the very worried look on her face when she left his room.

Marti had had enough. "You said that you miss Casey so much your heart hurts! If it hurts, you need to get it fixed, Derek! Dad said to always tell if someone is in pain and I did!"

She turned to Nora and asked, "That's good, right?"

Nora, who had been staring at Derek since the mention of Casey blinked out of her haze and smiled at Marti. "Of course it is. It's exactly the right thing to do. Why don't you go wait in the kitchen and I'll come get you some ice-cream for doing such a good job, ok?"

Derek watched Marti leave with dread. When the sound of her footsteps were no longer audible, he glanced at Nora, who was looking straight at him once again.

"So."

Derek squirmed. It was one thing to tell your father that you might just love the girl in the room next door. It was a completely separate ballgame to have to face the mother of that girl, knowing fully well that she was very aware of your reputation.

Scratching the back of his head, Derek tried to play it cool and brush off the suffocating awkwardness with his usual non-chalance; "You know, Nora, Marti-"

"Is waiting for her ice-cream and I think that Smerek needs to go apologize to his concerned little sister while I get changed."

She grinned at him that way she always had and left. He stared after her, surprised and more than a little confused. Derek knew who he would need to speak to in order to sort out Nora's reaction to her new knowledge of his attachment to her daughter but since his father wouldn't be home for at least another hour, he ought to go get Marti that ice-cream.

* * *

_Why do you care? _The question repeated in her head over and over. Really, why did she care about Derek? And that was where all the actual trouble laid. No matter how much she tried to deny it, Casey had realized that she did care about Derek. At the very least, she cared about his opinion. Perhaps, that was even scarier. He wasn't her peer at all. Not in the any of the ways that weren't made school reports. They were not what anyone with eyes, ears or emotions would call friends. But she cared about what Derek did, what Derek said, what Derek thought and even what Derek felt. 

Staring at the other cars on the interstate, Casey decided that yes, that was the essence of her problem. She wanted too much to impress people. She knew she went out of her way to be the best. Everyone she had met prior to joining the Venturi family had conceded this in one way or the other until she'd met Derek "The Derek" Venturi, who just so happened to think that he was the best and that the things at which Casey excelled were meaningless.

Content with her self-manufactured explanation, she smiled. Ben glanced at her then.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Derek," she replied.

"With a smile?" he questioned. "Should I take this as a sign of some sort?"

"Well, I think I've figured out why Derek bothers me so much," she said. "He doesn't appreciate me. I mean, he doesn't think that the things I do are important and therefore he doesn't think that I'm really good anything since I don't do the things he does. That's why he gets to me. Because he doesn't give me credit for being good at things when I deserve it while I do admit that he is good at some things I'll probably never do."

"Such as?"

"Charming girls onto the couch?" she suggested, a smile tugging at her lips. "Seriously, he plays sports much better than I could ever dream of."

"That's it?" he asked, pulling up in front of the posh house at which they were attending a party, "He plays sports?"

Casey shrugged, hand on the door latch. "Do you expect me to give anymore?"

* * *

**Author's Note: **I had some internet problems, that's why this chapter has taken so long. It's about 1000 words longer than usual so I hope that makes up for time. Also,I know that some of this sounds like filler, but it isn't. I don't write anything that doesn't have a purpose. Finally, I'd like to thank the readers for all the wonderful reviews I've gotten so far. They're really encouraging. 


End file.
